


Waking Nightmare

by StormDriver



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Patch 5.2: Echoes of a Fallen Star Spoilers, interpret this however you want kiddos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22865266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormDriver/pseuds/StormDriver
Summary: Nights in Norvrandt grow colder. The days grow more weary. There is no stopping the Ascian from his machinations. Why bother trying to salvage any of it anymore?A short-ish piece that I wrote following a nightmare I had on 5.2's patch day, told from the perspective of my Warrior of Light.
Relationships: Ardbert & Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	Waking Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> this is a little lowkey embarrassing because i dont actually post too many of my pieces, especially ones i write for the comfort of myself. this was initially a vent piece that i scribbled down following a nightmare i had after i'd completed the 5.2 MSQ. that doesn't sound too healthy, haha. but i needed to express my feelings somewhere. i'll explain the nightmare and how it lead to this at the end. 
> 
> also, this is absolutely open to interpretation.... i have an absolute crush on this ghostman of a warrior and while my warrior of light probably doesn't, she will be my self-projection.
> 
> also also, i quickly mentioned a few of my friends' wols because it seemed to fit, don't worry about that ^^

Brisk night winds pressed against the window panes, swaying them on their hinges. Stars glistened amongst the raven sky, only tainted by the sight of a few clouds of dark hue. The gentle glow of the moon shone a light into the inn room, casting a long shadow all the way towards the entryway. The shadows of the room grew ever darker and the lone hero stood staring out across the distant lake. 

Her eyes half open, a look of absent thought. Sunken shadows in her face and a small frown dotting her lips. She wanted to lay down and forget today. Wipe the slate clean and pretend that whatever transpired wasn't real. It was a nightmare, yes? Only a nightmare could be so harrowing and leave her heart so heavy.

"'Will of the star itself?'" Her voice was raspy, recounting the events of the day. She sniffled and brushed a hand over her nose, the chills of the room getting to annoying levels. "What rubbish is that supposed to sell…" 

And how could anyone just… _believe_ it? 

…

No, it made perfect sense why they'd believe it.

Of course he had to show up right after she'd cleared his name… Or rather, the _corpse's_ name. If he'd only appeared a short time beforehand, then not a damn soul would believe a thing that the Ascian sputtered out. She could have even lashed out. 'The man who caused the Flood? Why believe a thing he has to say? Why trust him after all the-?'

Even thinking of the scenario drenched her heart in guilt. As much as the safety of Norvrandt was a concern, how could the possibility of further tarnishing the Warriors of Light's names be any better? Create a world where they're vilified to a point that the mention of them causes riots? How was that better? How was that _fair?_

Thinking about it racked her with dread. The only way of potentially stopping the Ascian was to make another person's history appear as a sin. To torment their name and anyone that shared it for the rest of this world's life. To watch any who cared about them step on their legacies and curse them out. To see any of their kin be refused a happy life knowing they carried the blood of a Warrior of Light in their veins.

The world is reaching its lowest again, and everyone chooses to believe that they're higher than ever. They don't even know the truth. They _can't_ know the truth. What good would it do to learn about other worlds and the Ascians? All the anxiety and sorrows and the moral clashes. And what would it solve? Preserving this broken world? This absolute mess of a flooded wasteland? Why bother?

Why…?

Sometimes she wondered if they'd be better off just… letting the Rejoining happen.

Norvrandt's troubles would disappear. All of the people would meet a swift and quiet end. They would no longer suffer the indecencies of their fellow man.

And they could all die thinking they were heroes. Remembering each other as heroes. Remembering the heroes that came before them and-

Without warning, the girl's right arm lifted up. She'd been so lost in thought that only at the last moment did she pay mind to the motion. Suddenly realizing that her arm was moving without her command. And her palm flew towards her face and slapped her own cheek.

The girl had actually gone and slapped herself. Or at least, it looked as if she had. 

Baelfire shrieked and frantically grabbed her face, cupping her stinging skin with both her hands. She clenched both eyes shut and hissed, "Twelve forfend…" while rubbing her skin. "What was…"

No one else was in her room. She turned on her heel and glanced all about to make sure there were no more visitors. Some few had come to see her earlier. Namely a man with a long sword and scar over his face, and an elezen wearing a waitress's apron and a lifetime of regret in her eyes. 

But no such characters were here. She had no one to blame for the painful oppression but her own mindless limb.

She kept her left hand over her face, stroking the stinging pain out of her cheek. Her right hand's fingers twitched at her command. No longer lusting to lay across her face and cause an uproar of torturous confusion. It was her hand. Her body. No one else's.

But whatever her body had decided to do to her, it was… refreshing. The dreadful train of thought that she'd boarded wasn't going to leave her with pleasant dreams. Or at the least, the dreams wouldn't be _as_ awful.

How could she have thought any of that? Was the desperation truly weighing on her heart that much? That she'd forsake an entire world for only a few individuals' legacies? Not even the people… The person. And not even him. Just his memory.

The death of a whole world, no matter how much spite she held against it, was unjustifiable. And it's not as if it would somehow bring him back… Ardbert was gone. He died. He's been dead for a century.

He was alone for a century. 

He had to watch this world suffer for a century. 

_A hundred years… A hundred… long… years._

Regaling the memory only made her feel all the more lonely. The utter despair in his voice when he'd realized how long the world suffered at his hand was enough to tug on her heart all the more. He'd suffered as long as the people he'd damned. How was it fair for her to feel sympathy for _one_ when the _whole world_ was met with torment? To pity one man more than a world that was told to hurry up and die? The man who caused the-

Baelfire stopped herself. She looked down at her hands and saw them trembling. Her own breathing was filled with a shaky noise. The miqo'te's eyes were fixed on the twitching limb. 

Standing there and feeling conflicted about it would do no good. There were decisions that needed to be made, but not today. Another time. When her head was clearer and the skies were bright again.

The bed felt just as uncomfortable. She couldn't bring herself to put on proper night clothes, not even taking off her boots or gloves. 

She probably should've tried to get more comfortable. Maybe then she'd actually be able to sleep. The tiredness of her eyes was the only thing lulling her back into slumber. Not the dead of night. Not her own self care. But the fact that her body began to shut down.

She tossed one more time, back facing the wall and her eyes straining to glimpse about the room. She'd shut the window. It was too dark to see anything definite.

Baelfire lay on her side on the mattress. Her legs curled in and arms tucked close to her chest. Her hands laying flat against the surface of the bed, fingertips curled in ever so slightly. And with one more deep breath, after sorting through the last remaining thoughts at the front of her mind, she let her eyes close.

Sleep did not come easy. How could it, after today? The miqo'te kept on shifting and fidgeting, yet refused to open her eyes. There were moments where she had begun to drift off towards the plains of sleep. But every dreadful tremor in her body, in her pounding heart, pulled her mind back out of the dark clutches of slumber. Reminded her where she was. What she had to do. Who's lives were depending on her to make a decision that no one should be forced to make. Just how many souls could be lost if she said the wrong thing. 

For the first time in a long time, she wanted to forget it all. Even if it meant Norvrandt would be shrouded in everlasting light. At least she wouldn't be here. Even if it meant Ala Mhigo and Doma were still under imperial rule. At least she wouldn't be there. Even if it meant leaving Ishgard and the rest of Eorzea to perish at the hands of the Garleans primals alike. At least she wouldn't be here.

Baelfire rolled over in bed again. Why was she here anyways? What drove her to make all of these strides, do all of these things for other people? The good deed in itself? The will of the Mothercrystal? Or some shard of her past, of the Amaurotine buried in her soul, guiding her string on the weave of life?

Why did she listen to this calling? Why did she become a Scion? An adventurer? What was the point, the purpose? 

If she'd known all of those choices would lead to this, to everything being turned against her, to the deaths of so many of her friends who _gave_ their lives for her… Would she have even done it?

She kept these thoughts in mind as she turned her face into the pillow. Pressed the fabric against her face and tried to push her mind into sleep. 

_Please, just sleep. I can think about all this later._

**What 'later?' You mean to put this off? To ignore your own despair?**

_I can sort it out._

**You always say that. You're always on about how you need to be strong for the people around you.**

_If I'm not, who will be?_

**'Who will be!?' You saw that bastard pledging the whole Crystarium to become Warriors of Light! You can damn well leave them to their own since they're so confident in their choice!**

_They're… They're not… actual Warriors-_

**Then what the hell do you call yourself? How are you any different, any more special?**

_…_

**Are you really certain you're a Warrior of Light?**

_...I'm… not a…_

**Not a what?**

_...not a hero._

**…**

_I'm not a hero._

She pulled the pillow closer to her chest.

_Not a hero._

The day's events came rushing back.

_No heroes._

The gleeful look on the soldiers' faces being told they could be warriors.

_Heroes aren't real._

A red blaze blooming from his face as a twisted voice spoke from his lips.

_We aren't heroes._

The meteor shower growing darker over the Crystal Tower.

" _We aren't heroes,_ " she sobbed into the pillow. " _None_ of us. We're all just _fools_ trying to make our way in this _messed up_ world." She heaved in once and sobbed again. As she turned over and lay flat on her chest, a pale light began to reflect the golden metal of her armor.

She kept hugging the pillow tighter, pulling her legs in close and curling up. Baelfire kept sobbing, and soon enough, wailing into the cloth. It was a wonder how no one could hear her. Or if they could, no one must’ve cared. 

Not another soul in the Pendants, or even Norvrandt, would hear her scream.

"Those are words I never expected from _you_ of all people."

She twitched. The cat ears on her head jolted up at the sound of a voice. One she had yet to hear with a kind tone in a very long time. Her face jerked away from the pillow and stared up at the would-be dark room. Through blurry eyes, she could make out a soft glowing. The silhouette of someone standing in front of the dresser across the room. 

"H-how…" Her voice parched and raspy from the crying. Tears still flowing from her eyes and dripping off her chin. She had to be mistaken. He was not standing there. Not after so many months of silence.

But it looked just like him. Not so much taller than she. Fair skin and messy brown hair. His arms folded across his chest and eyes wide with worry. 

"The how of it doesn't matter. You're more concerned than I, wailing in your sleep " the warrior scolded her. "Going on about all these dreadful topics besides. What's gotten into you?"

Baelfire stared up at Ardbert, still trying to find the courage to breathe. 

_He isn't standing there. That isn't him. He is dead. Gone. Ardbert is-_

His shoulders drooped and brows furrowed. "You know that isn't true. Y'shtola told you otherwise."

Baelfire flinched, choking on her own breath. Her hands unraveled from the pillow slowly. With great hesitation, she started to sit upright and threw her legs over the bed.

"You knew I didn't leave, right?" He asked, blue eyes still watching her. 

She did not respond. At least, not vocally. She stood up, legs wobbling and hardly any dignity in her posture. Her shoulders forward and head hung low, arms limp at her sides and swaying. The image of sheer exhaustion. Desperation. For want of a better life.

She trudged forward two steps, hardly lifting her boots to make the path easier to walk. Until she was an arm's length or two away from her ghostly visitor. Ardbert kept staring at her. But did not move.

Baelfire pulled her eyes back up from the floor, forcing herself to stare at the warrior. It looked like him, yes. But his armor was different. No longer black, but a red color. His axe cleaned of the bloodstains. And he looked younger without the stubble. 

They stared at each other. And with a shaky limb, Baelfire raised her right arm. Her fingers curled into her palm. Held a small fist pointed in his direction.

Ardbert glanced between her exhausted face and her arm.

Baelfire tried her best to remain composed. Her wrist was shaking, heart hammering, eyes welling up. 

_Please let this work. Please let this work._

He seemed clueless for a moment. Then twitched at the realization. "Oh."

He looked back at her hand. And with little room for doubt, he lifted his left hand and mimicked her gesture. Pressed his fist against her own. Even if neither could feel it.

Baelfire was still shaking. 

Ardbert smiled at their interaction. "Well, it's nice to know you remembered this. I thought I was embarrassing myself when I tried, but I see I was wrong."

"It's really…" she mumbled. Then swallowed down her sorrows. "You're really…"

"I'm real. I'm here." 

Baelfire dropped her arm abruptly. Kept staring at his kind expression. A face that she hadn't seen in so long. 

With no warning to her actions, not so much as a thought given before she tried what she knew wasn't possible. Baelfire stumbled forward again and tried.

Before Ardbert could warn the girl not to, she'd already fallen right through his image. No collision as she tried to throw her arms around him and only met the cold floor behind him instead.

Baelfire fell down onto the tiles, on her knees. She stared at her empty arms, disbelief mounting in her heart. She couldn't grab him. He was still beyond reach.

"S-sorry," he started to turn and almost laughed at the gesture. "I thought you knew that wouldn’t work-"

A thump and the sounds of metal banging on tiles. He looked down to see the miqo'te laying on the floor, on her side. Arms uselessly splayed in front of her. Legs at awkward angles. Her eyes wide open and staring at nothing in particular.

Ardbert hastily stepped over her, even if he didn't need to fear kicking her, and knelt down. "...Are you alright?"

"No," she replied bluntly. "You're still dead…" Her body was completely stiff on the floor.

"I… suppose," he mumbled in response.

"So you're not-"

"But what does being alive matter?"

Baelfire broke her empty stare and her eyes twitched to look at him.

He was smiling, albeit nervously. But a smile nonetheless. "You've need of a friend, right? Well, I may not be able to provide the most comfort _physically_ , but I can certainly listen to your woes."

Baelfire blinked once. "You'll... listen to me?"

He sighed in disbelief, head tipping forward. "Not like I haven't asked the same of you in the past."

"But, I…" She averted eye contact, still laying on the floor. "I _wanted_ to hear you talk-"

"And who's to say I wouldn't rather you speak for a change?" 

Baelfire didn't respond. She didn't move from her spot on the floor.

He heaved once and closed his eyes. "Alright, fine."

His tone of voice sounded like he'd given up on starting a conversation. But in reality, he settled down and sat on the tiles. Laid his back flat on the surface, arms and legs spread out like a starfish. Though he kept a distance from Baelfire's curled up form.

The two warriors were laying on the floor with a fulm’s distance between them.

"What are you doing?" Her voice monotone as she asked.

"You've resigned yourself to this. I'll do the same." He stared up at the dark ceiling. "Until you start talking or find another way to spend your time _without_ the deprivation."

"But you…" She kept staring. "You already know what the issue is."

"Sometimes saying things is a better way to sort it all out. Hearing yourself say it might make you realize where the real issues lie."

Silent consideration.

"Besides, I'd like to hear you talk more. You're so scarce to speak as it is."

"...I don't have a lot to say most of the time." Baelfire curled in a little tighter.

"What about right now?"

"...Too many things to say."

Ardbert glanced over without moving his head. He noticed Baelfire's gaze on the floor. Her ears drooping. The twitch of her fingers. 

Then he looked back to the ceiling. "Too much to say in a single night?"

"..."

"You wouldn't know unless you tried."

Silence filled the room. Every dreadful thought the girl had in the past few days seemed to fill the empty air. And to pick one to start on was taxing. 

"Well, I-" she started to speak. But found the words difficult to say.

Ardbert looked at her again. 

She swallowed and continued. "I'm… scared for G'r-" She stopped and tried again. "For the Exarch. He's working so hard to get the others home."

"His name is G'raha Tia, isn’t it?"

Baelfire nodded. She still looked exhausted.

"Why not call him that?"

"I dunno… I thought it'd be rude."

"How so?"

"...He doesn't seem to like that name anymore."

A loud sigh. “Yes, the way his eyes light up whenever you dare speak it gives that impression.”

Baelfire’s body seized up. “Wh-what?” 

“Nothing,” Ardbert dismissed the topic immediately. The girl was clueless and perhaps it was best if it remained that way. “Why so worried then?”

She unfurled one of her palms and flexed her fingers. Watched the fabrics fold and unfold as she moved her limb. “I get the feeling he’s not taking care of himself as much as he should. Lyna asked me to help enforce his self-care after he… uh…” She paused. “He confused a salmon for a letter opener.”

The hume was stunned for a moment. Then a smile broke on his face and he snickered. He started laughing harder. 

Baelfire felt embarrassed for the Exarch. She smiled herself. “He’s been delirious, it seems. Though I will say I regret not seeing it myself.”

“I…” Ardbert couldn’t find the words and stared blankly at the ceiling. “You might be right to be worried.”

“Yes… He doesn’t rest, I’m told. He’s constantly scouring books and old scriptures to find a way to send the Scions home. I made a note to scold him last I saw him, told him to get rest…” Baelfire scoffed. “He had that audacity to tell me to do the same.”

“Well, you need rest, too.” 

Baelfire remained silent. She let out a deep breath and pressed her palms on the tiles, pushing her body upright.

“You know you’re not invincible.”

She slumped forward, legs bent in front of her and arms resting over them. 

Ardbert slowly mimicked her movement and sat up himself. Where Baelfire’s armor clanked and fabrics rustled as she moved, his image remained silent. The eerie glow of his spirit did little to properly light the room. 

“I’m not… I know,” she mumbled. “I don’t need to be reminded.”

The days earlier events came ringing back. The meteor shower raining over the Crystarium. The voice of the Mothercrystal falling onto once deaf ears. And the visage of a once-was friend taunting her with a dead man’s voice. How helpless she felt to so much as speak up.

“...What do you suppose he’ll do? With more Warriors of Light?” Ardbert asked. He crossed his arms over the other. “He can’t possibly turn the whole of Norvrandt against you. You stopped the Sin Eaters. So why give more people the Echo...?”

“Does it _matter?_ ”

Ardbert winced, taken aback for a moment. Her voice was brash and demanding. Mounted with some sort of anger. 

Her fingers curled in and tightened against her palm. “Whatever the hell he thinks he’s doing, it won’t work at all. What does creating more Warriors of Light achieve? More servants for Hydaelyn? He’s damning himself. So why not let him.” Her eyes narrowed and the slightest frown on her lips.

“...I doubt an Ascian would act so recklessly…” He didn’t stop talking. “Elidibus was the emissary, yes? The one obsessed with balance? Why would he break his standard? Why not try Warriors of Darkness-?”

“Because _nothing_ the Ascians do makes sense, alright?” Baelfire’s voice cracked into a higher octave. She turned her body and stared at her ghostly visitor with glistening eyes and anger on her brow. “They can’t accept the fate they were given and they do everything to ruin everyone else’s. Ascians don’t CARE about anything except the Rejoinings, and there is NOTHING that’s too depraved for _any of them_ to do!”

He wasn’t even given a chance to respond before she stood up angrily. “First they go about and possess Thancred and manipulate Baelsar…” She was hunched over, arms dangling in front of her. “Then they turn Ishgard into their own personal monarchy with Thordan’s primal essence to lead it.” She trudged forward towards the window. “And _then_ , as SOON as we’re getting a moment to breathe, that _sorry_ excuse for an emissary up and takes Zenos’ CORPSE, and-” 

Her hands wrapped over the window’s ledge and she leaned on it, heaving in and out. The cold night air ruffled her bangs and clothes. It chilled her fingertips and rattled the windows on their hinges.

Baelfire stared down at the flowers outside of her window. Some blue, some red, all with green stems planted in brown soil. The moon gently illuminating their outlines in the dark of night. And a different light source slowly growing as it inched forward.

Ardbert stared at her, eyes fraught with concern. She’d been letting this build up for a long time. Even if she had her fellow Scions to talk with, the Exarch to console, or even her dear friends back in the Source to seek the advice of, there must’ve been some things she never thought to speak aloud. 

“I’m so _tired,_ ” she whined. “I don’t want to _deal_ with this anymore. No Ascians, no calamities, no Amaurot. No Warriors of Light or Darkness.” Her hands tightened over the window’s edge, fingers shaking to keep a hold. “I just want to go home. I want to forget what happened today.”

He’d kept his distance, but Ardbert couldn’t stay silent. Watching the girl writhe over the fate she’d been given made his heart ache. “...Denying reality won’t make it easier to bear,” his voice was quiet and low. 

Baelfire sucked in one breath and let it out in one quick motion. Her shaking hands let go of the window and she turned away. Away from Ardbert and towards the table. She kept walking away.

“Accepting fate’s hand has always been bitter.” 

He followed Baelfire as she stamped towards the table and aggressively sat down. She wrapped one hand over the other and pressed them against her face, resting her elbows on the table’s surface. 

“But take it from me: trying to turn it away will hurt you more than anything.” 

But she didn’t seem to acknowledge his words, much less his presence. Her eyes were clenched shut and her ears twitching each time he spoke.

“This is such…” Her arms collapsed and she pressed her face flat against the surface of the table, forearms folded in front of her head and groaned. 

Ardbert leaned closer. “You haven’t been given anything fair, I know. But if you want to save Norvrandt and Eorzea, you need to keep your head up-”

The parched sound of her voice was muffled beneath her arms. “Why am I the one that has to do it?”

He wished he had an answer. Or at least, a good one. “...I’m not sure.” 

“What-” She lifted her face off the table and sniffled. “What is making me do any of this? Who’ll stop me from going back to the Shroud and hiding away with Morticia?” Baelfire’s head dipped a little lower. “Gods know she’s been patient, waiting for me to finish everything here before I could come home.” 

“You’re not… really going to-”

“What if I _do_ just run away?” She mumbled, eyes growing wider. “No one could stop me.”

As much as he wanted to grab her shoulder and shake her back to her senses, Ardbert could do nothing but try to speak over her self-doubt. “And what of the Scions here, in the First? You’d leave them behind for their bodies to die in the Source? And what would happen if they became as I did, as shades that couldn’t be seen by anyone? You’d leave them to that?”

“...” 

“And Eorzea? If this is truly part of their plan to cause a Rejoining, you can’t escape the calamity that would happen,” he pressed with a more fervent fire in his voice. “Morticia and Midl and Quill would be at the mercy of their will and you’d rather risk their lives and the lives of _everyone_ in both our worlds for you to _escape?_ ”

“Do not presume to speak to me about modest acts,” she muttered, turning one eye towards the ghost in her room. “Not after everything I’ve had to do to help the helpless.” 

“You’re not the only person who’s had to work for their earning.”

“Then why am I one that needs to fight the Ascians?” She turned towards him, brows furrowed and eyes wide. “Why couldn’t Hydaelyn choose someone else?!” 

“You already know why.”

“But why isn’t this more fair?!” Baelfire yelled, hands twitching at the empty air. “Why is there never another Warrior of Light to do this?! It’s always just _one_ person, _one_ hero to bear the weight of the world!”

Ardbert winced. “I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten, but I’m standing here still,” his voice drenched in an offended tone. “My time as a Warrior of Light may not have been as successful as yours, but you do not bear the responsibility alone. We all carry a piece of it.”

“YOU HAVEN’T DONE A DAMN THING!” The miqo’te stood up fast, ears folded back and one of her hands already swatting him away. As she threw her arm towards the man to push him back, her arm slammed into a cup. A tea set that she had brought with her from the Source and prepared the sweet nectar in every day. One of the cups now flying through the air. 

For a split second, she did not think anything of it. The cup would pass through him and shatter once it hit the wall behind Ardbert, but that was it. Just broken ceramics to be retrieved and thrown out. 

But it did not pass through his ghostly image. The white cup, painted with red stripes, hit his chest plate and shattered immediately. The loud crack of the cup almost as loud as Baelfire’s scream. Ardbert staggered back one step, a few pieces of ceramic falling off and cluttering the floor. 

They were both motionless. Baelfire stared at Ardbert’s fear-stricken face, her viridescent eyes wide and shaking. And he stared down at the broken pieces at his feet. 

“I-I…” She couldn’t form a sentence for the life of her. Expression empty and a slight fear sinking into her eyes. 

He kept staring. His arms slowly fell back to his sides, shoulders sinking and no more an attempt to keep his composure. An expression of some disappointment. The icy gaze turned back up to his fellow Warrior of Light. “You’re not the only person who’s had their deeds overlooked, either.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “‘O-overlooked…?’”

He didn’t speak. Ardbert took one step forward and then another, until there was only a fulm of space.

Baelfire anxiously took one step back as he moved, but the fear drenching her heart left her unable to move. What a heartless thing she could’ve said. She knew how much he’d been through and how little even Norvrandt remembered. Damn it, that’s what led to this whole mess. 

She feared that he may slap her again, as he must’ve done earlier. Yes, only Ardbert would so mercilessly punish her for even thinking of abandoning her role as a Warrior of Light. He who had proudly given his life to travel to another world and potentially save his people. He who wandered a world that hated him without being able to apologize. How dare this girl presume to know what he had been through? 

As much as she wanted to run, her legs would not move. As much as she wanted to say sorry, her voice would not work. She could only stare as he took another step closer and he pulled her into a hug. 

It was strange, certainly not what she’d expected. But he had so quickly pulled her in and held one arm over her shoulder. His other hand holding her head. He’d leaned down only an ilm to accomodate for their height difference. But hugged her just as tight as she swore someone else would. Someone else who was still waiting at home for her. 

Her hands twitched as her consciousness struggled on what to do. She could hear her own heart hammering away in her head. The air leaving her lungs faster and faster. Baelfire’s tail flicked about with each anxious thought that ran through her head.

“Not everything you do will be given proper attribution,” Ardbert mumbled. “And not all of your deeds will be compensated. The reward may not feel worth the effort anymore… But it’s better than dying.” His hug tightened. “It’s better than watching those that you love die.” 

Baelfire stared at the empty air. Her eyes twitched. Arms moved slowly, but she didn’t resist burying her face in his shoulder. Her palms pulling over his armor and hugging back. “But, I… I don’t know if I can even keep them alive.”

“You won’t know unless you try.” 

She closed her eyes and leaned more on his body. “I don’t want to try.”

“Because you don’t want them to be safe?”

“No, because…” She sighed and her voice broke. “Because I’m scared.” 

The room felt strangely empty. The moon still shining across the tiles, the broken pieces of the cup still behind them. The quiet noise of the outside world drifting through the window and haunting her dreams. The two ‘heroes’ still standing and trying to speak.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asked.

“I don’t want anymore people to die. I don’t want it to be my fault.”

“So you’d rather stand by and let them go on their own for fear of messing up?”

“No.”

“Then what’s all this nonsense about running away?” 

“I just don’t want to be here anymore… I don’t want to be a Warrior of Light anymore… It’s not worth it.”

“...It feels like that, huh?” 

He started to pull away. And Baelfire felt the urge to hug tighter and refuse his escape. But he didn’t leave her side. He lifted his right hand and brushed a few of the white strands out of her eyes. “The Warriors before you, before both of us, must’ve felt the same at some point. We must’ve thought that this was the worst choice we’d ever made. When we’d look back and recount every time we’d screwed up and wonder if any of it could be worth what was waiting at the end.” 

Ardbert brushed her face with his hand and lifted her chin up to force her to look forwards, where she couldn’t hide in memories or self-loathing. It was easier to see his face, the cold stare and gentle smile. “I’m not at that end yet. I said I’d stick with you until we both got there. You helped me see that my part in all this was worth it. And so far, you’ve yet to let me believe otherwise.” 

Baelfire couldn’t help the tears starting to slip down her cheeks. She grit her teeth together behind her lips, but could hardly restrain the sob. “But why is it… so difficult? Why does it have to be me…?”

“It’s cruel to say,” he sighed, brushing a tear off her face. “But who else would be strong enough?” 

She tried to keep another cry to herself, but only ducked her head and failed. Tears fell off her face and fell down to the floor between them. Her shoulders shaking and hands tightening into small fists. 

The miqo’te threw both her arms over his shoulders and dug her face into his chest. 

“That’s _ridiculously_ cruel. I can’t believe you’d say such a thing, you’re _awful,_ ” she mumbled, hands tightening over his armor. “You’re such an _awful_ sinner, I can’t _believe-_ ” Her voice broke and she took a deep breath, body shaking as she inhaled. “I’m gonna have to find a way to shove your soul back into that body so _you_ can carry the blood weight of all this.” 

“If you could find a way, I’d gladly take the offer.” He remained calm despite her gradually losing her composure.

Baelfire didn’t seem to hear him. She said in her best mocking voice, “‘ _Who else would be strong enough,’_ my left eye… Morticia would never say something like that. She’d take her lance in hand and thrash whatever was giving me issues.”

“My options are rather limited,” he nervously laughed. 

“And I have to do something about that, don’t I? _Yes_ , it’s always up to the Warrior of Light to solve every mundane problem that the world conjures.” She was leaning entirely on his body. 

“...This isn’t mundane,” he mumbled.

“It might as well be… It’s just another issue for me to worry about.”

“You act as if you’re new to adventuring.”

“...It’s not fun anymore.”

“It _does_ get numb over the years.” He started to let go again, pushing her back onto her own two feet. He leaned away so that they could see each others’ faces again “But do try and remember what’s worth it at the end of the day.”

Baelfire’s ears perked and she looked up at Ardbert. Tears streaking her cheeks, but a playful smile to contrast it. “The coin?”

“The _happiness_ that comes with helping others.” He nudged her shoulder with a balled up hand. “Don’t be too selfish.” He was smiling, too.

“...But the coin is part of it too, right?”

Ardbert sighed and couldn’t help but snicker. Baelfire lifted a hand to her mouth and laughed, as well. 

“Please try to care about other people,” he mumbled.

“I do… It just gets rough sometimes.” 

“Well am I aware.” 

Baelfire spared one more glance up at her dear comrade. He really did seem younger now lacking the scruff. The shadows on his face weren’t nearly as hollow and he was more upbeat and optimistic. 

“What’s your plan to deal with the Ascian then?” 

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know the finer details yet… But I’ll get rid of him.”

“This happened before… Thancred, was it? The other one that had his body stolen?”

Baelfire nodded. “They use special crystals and covenants to do it… If I could break the crystal, then Elidibus couldn’t use you anymore.” 

Ardbert nodded and folded his arms. “How do you intend to get close enough to break it? Or are you intent on fighting him to the death?”

Her hands tightened up. “I don’t want to kill him… At least, not your body. But if it comes down to it, I’ll do what has to be done.”

“I’d hope so. There’s no point in leaving it alive. It was buried for a reason.” 

She looked down at the floor. “Yeah… R-right.” Already starting to think otherwise.

“Whatever happens, don’t take too many risks. You don’t know what the Ascian could pull if you got in a fight with him. It’s not just me you’d be fighting, it’s whatever other magicks they can perform.” 

“Right.”

“And Baelfire?”

She met his gaze again. “Yes?”

“Don’t die.” His hand landed on her shoulder. The grip was somewhat comforting. To know he was still there. That he’d follow her wherever she went. “If you go down, then that’s it for us both. Don’t make me regret my decision.” 

She expected another look of disappointment but only found smiling sentiment in turn. An expression of utter happiness and comfort and hope. One he’d hardly brandished in the past. 

That was the last thing she remembered before a sun started shining through the room.

One moment she was standing up, and the next she was laying down. Her eyes fluttered open and she was staring at the ceiling. Her back against a mattress and pillow behind her head. 

Baelfire squinted as the sun beams drenched her vision and flooded the room with light. They warmed her body where she’d neglected to pull a blanket over. 

The miqo’te stood from her bed. She paced over to her window and glanced towards the table. The tea set was still in the proper place. The cup she thought was broken was resting with the other pieces of the set.

She grabbed the edges of the open window and looked down at the flowers. The gentle colors blossoming from the soul. Her eyes traced the jagged edges of the mountains and met with the smooth waters of the Source.

And for the first time in months, she was smiling at the sight of a bright sky. 

**Author's Note:**

> so, the nightmare: i'm a person that very severely indulges in escapism. im someone that hates it when issues get tough, and even though i'll usually tough it out for the better outcome, the rewards rarely seem to be worth it. friendships i sought to repair when they began to crumble were only taped together to last. still brittle and if you breathed in the direction of it, it would shatter. so watching where the patch was going, i couldn't help but be afraid that the world was starting to hate the warrior of light because they were going to leave Norvrandt. i can't help but be afraid for 5.3, where we'll have to inevitably announce to the whole of Norvrandt that they're not warriors of light and that Ardbert is dead (or whatever state he's in, i'm not even sure myself). 
> 
> im afraid that however many hardships the warrior of light is about to go through, Norvrandt as a whole still wont appreciate them as much as they could, or at all. so it led to an anxiety dream that i can't remember too well, but i do remember it left me shaken up afterwards. so much so that i woke up at 4 am to scribble the first few paragraphs of this. and i expanded on it more last night before finalizing it this morning. 
> 
> i'm really not sure what i was going for in this piece. but i did it. and my friend read it and said it was good. so here we are!
> 
> if you liked it or felt there were places i could improve, let me know! i'm constantly looking to grow as a writer because i plan to take commissions as i move forward. thank you so much for your time, and please have a wonderful day ^^


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